All Smiles
by these are jazz-hands
Summary: Callie Torres and Arizona Robbins Calzone, Calzona, Arizocal, Calizona, whatever you call them! and a series of 4 short stories following the same storyline. They range from PG-13 to NC-17. Watch out!
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** All Smiles (1 and 2 out of 4)  
**Author: **Jazz  
**Rating: **The first three parts are PG, maybe PG-13, and part 4 is NC-17. Bahaha.  
**Fanbase: **Grey's Anatomy  
**Pairing:** Callie/Arizona (Calzone)  
**Word Count: **Part 1-810 words. Part 2-789 words.  
**Teaser:** I decided to write a tiny, tiny one-shot that is basically based on my feelings for Sara Ramirez, only how I think Arizona might take it. If that makes sense. The tiny one-shot turned into a series of tiny one-shots that follow the same storyline I set up. So it's a short story in parts, I suppose.

* * *

It's been a week. A week has gone by and Callie Torres and I have not said a word to each other. Am I freaking out? Just a little bit. I'm glad I have my job to keep me busy, because all my spare time is spent thinking about her and why she hasn't talked to me.

Maybe it's because neither of us has caught the other's eye. Maybe we're just missing each other. I saw her—once—in the corridors, but she was talking to Dr. Sloan, and turned away from me, so all I saw was her ass. Not that I minded that at all. But still. I'd like some contact here. Maybe a hello? A simple smile or wink would suffice, thank you very much.

Oh my goodness. She's sitting across the room from me.

I catch her eye. We are in the lunch room. She and I are both sitting alone eating salads and reading the latest issues of Health magazines. What nerds. When she sees that I'm looking, she half-smiles. Oh, yes. Score one for Arizona. I smile back and motion for her to join me at my table. We can we nerds together.

She puts her magazine away and gets up, keeping eye contact with me. She's coming over to sit by me! Ohmigosh! I am Arizona, Queen of the Mother-Fucking World!

She slides into the seat next to me and I try not to look triumphant. I remind myself that she hasn't even said anything yet. She could be sitting here just to tell me she wants to be friends.

Oh gosh. She had better not.

Keep it cool, Arizona. Don't show her that you're freaking out.

I'm lucky I paid attention to drama class in 8th grade and that I watch _Lie to Me_ every Wednesday, or she would see the panic and nervousness alllll over my face.

"Hi," I say, biting my lip. Nervous habit. She smiles in an absolutely adorable lopsided way.

"Hey. Arizona," she says.

"Callie," I reply, full out grinning. She is interested! I can just see it. "What's up?"

"Um, not much. Just…eating lunch," says Callie. I laugh, which makes her smile. Wow. Damn. Her teeth are so white. God, she is gorgeous. I think I pause too long, my eyes lingering on her lips, before I respond.

"Me too." Wow. Smoooooth, Arizona. Can't get much cooler than you. "What'd you get to eat?" A salad, durr. You just saw it. You got the same thing.

"I got a salad," says Callie, glancing down at my own. She leans forward in her seat, closer to me. Her foot barely grazes my leg, and I'm shivering. And it's pretty warm out today. I have no excuse.

Callie seems to know she's doing this to me. Her smile becomes a smirk.

"I finished my salad," she says. "But I'm still hungry. Do you mind if I steal a bit of yours?" She knows I don't. I nod, my eyes wide. God, I am so bad at hiding my emotions. _Lie to Me_ is doing nothing. At least it's entertaining.

Callie picks up my fork…_my_ fork, and slowly drags one leaf of lettuce up to her mouth. As she devours it, she closes her eyes as if it's the tastiest food ever and she's trying to savor every bite. Both she and I know that the salad is anything but the tastiest food—Iceberg lettuce with ranch dressing—but that doesn't matter to either of us. I lick my lips, watching hers.

Arizona, you suck. You suck, you suck, you suck. She's hot, and you're falling for her hard, and she's only playing with you, and she's probably straight, and…she's _hot_.

My mind is on one track.

I smile a little dreamily at Callie. She grins back at me and brushes my hair out of my face. Everything is happy and dreamy and in a nice, slow motion and then…

Callie's pager goes off, and it's a 911.

Aw, damn, damn. You seriously suck, Arizona. Seriously.

"I have to go," says Callie. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Definitely," I hear myself say confidently. Where do these sudden bursts of awesome come from? I'm pretty sure that was the one moment throughout all of lunchtime, that I actually sounded in charge of myself. Which, I'm not. Because my body is humming and it tingles where she touched me and my head is clouded with images of her and that damn salad.

Something drops into my lap about the same time she turns around to walk off. It's a piece of paper, folded in half 7 times. I unfold it and read it.

It's Callie's phone number.

She put it in my lap.

She gave it to me!

She likes me!

You rock, Arizona! You are the Queen of the Mother-Fucking World!!

* * *

Note: If you don't review, I won't post part two! :)


	2. Chapter 2

A/N Because you were good and reviewed...

* * *

"Callie?" A very distinct female voice.

"Arizona." I close my eyes, relief flooding into all my being. _She called_.

There's a smile in her voice, as she asks me how I am.

"I'm good," I say cheerfully. Now that she called, I'm great. She called, she called, she called, she called! "I have surgery in a few minutes. It should be fun. How are you?"

"I'm absolutely fabulous. What surgery?"

"A man who got his leg basically snapped in half by his garage door. Don't ask me how that happened," I laugh. "It's a pretty gory site."

"Sounds awesome," says Arizona. "What time do you get off work?"

"Around seven, if there are no complications with this surgery."

"Great! I get off at 7:30. Do you want to get a drink at Joe's at about eight?" Her voice is higher than usual, and it's ringing with nerves. I feel my own stomach clench. I think this is a date.

"Um..that sounds great!" It really does. But now I'm nervous as hell. What did I bring to change into after work? I search my mind. Pink top, black jeans. It has a history as the outfit I wore when I kissed Erica Hahn outside of the hospital and started a chain of events that led me to here. The shirt has a little hole in it from the time Erica tried to feel me up and her nail got caught in it. It's small, on the side, so hopefully Arizona won't notice it. I want to look good for her. I want her to like me, and for us to have a relationship that doesn't end for a very long time

Jesus. If I'm looking this ahead into the future, I must really like her. Callie. Snap out of it, you have only known her for a little over a week.

She is hot though. There's something about those blondes.

"Meet me at the front of the hospital at eight, then?" Arizona asks me, bringing me back to now.

"Sure. I'll see you!" I'm excited. Her voice tells me the same, when she reluctantly says good-bye.

All through the surgery, I'm thinking about Alaska and her lips. Her smile is the most adorable thing, with her dimples all over the place. She's conventionally pretty, but in an unconventional way. I like it a lot. I like her a lot.

The surgery goes without any complications, which leaves me with a mere hour to tame my hair and make my face look absolutely gorgeous, while also looking like I didn't do anything to try. I used to have this look down, but since Erica left me, I felt like a change was needed. The bangs get into my face, though, and block my vision. Which sucks. But I'll do something about them. Somehow.

I shower and dry my hair. I didn't bring my straightener, so my hair is just going to be a wild mess of curls like it was when I was with George.

I suddenly realize I'm comparing everything with the past. This needs to stop. I decide that from now on, I'm not looking back. As I brush my hair and accidentally make it frizzier and more full of static, I decide that I'm not Callie-Who-Got-Cheated-On-By-George-O'Malley, or Callie-Who-Cheated-On-Erica-Hahn-And-Got-Left-Alone. I'm Callie, and I've made mistakes, and bad things have happened to me, but that doesn't define me. I'm Callie. I'm glad I'm me. I smile at myself in the mirror because there's no one I'd rather be. Except maybe Brad Pitt, because Angelina Jolie is just HOT.

But you know what?

Right now, I wouldn't even trade my life for Brad Pitt's. Because I'm now in the front lobby of the hospital, and a beautiful blonde is walking towards me now. And I think she's more beautiful than Angelina Jolie, the way she smiles at me.

"You ready to go?" she asks.

"Definitely," I say, looking her up and down. Hot. Oh, so hot.

I brush a piece of hair that's always in her face and she blushes. I want to make her blush more often. Not by embarrassing her, but by making her feel good. She puts her hand on my shoulder, the way Erica used to do—no, no. The way…the Arizona Way. Erica's in my past and it's time for me to stop looking back. She puts her hand on my shoulder in an Arizona way that is familiar and comfortable. We walk out of the hospital and across the street to Joe's side by side. I'm nervous, but I'm okay because I'm me and she's Arizona and I like what we are, or what we could be. We'll just have to see how it goes.


End file.
